In the forest of Kulup, there lies, lonely, deeply hidden, the Ghost Forge.
Those who found it did not discover it. For those who see it do not sense it, and those who sense it do not see it, because every form it possessed escapes their gaze.
One hears the bellows groaning; one hears the hammer striking; You can hear the fire hissing on some bitter days. But you see neither anvil here, nor coal, iron, steel; you see only deep, deep sorrow and nameless torment.
You ask, “Do ghosts forge there?” No, is the answer here; no ghosts forge there, they are forged!
They are forged out of hatred and envy, Out of pride and greed, And what is forged there Torments us humans here. They are forged out of prejudice, Out of stupidity and delusion, And what is created there as a spirit Breaks our path. It shackles our free spirit; It clouds our minds, And leads us by the ghostly hand Through the whole human realm.
O man, if you want to be a creator, Then forge ghosts for yourself That are not born of hatred, Nor of base greed! Forge ghosts for yourself only out of love, Out of truth and light, Then you will not fear the ghost smiths In eternity!
